


A Well-Laid Plan

by crookedspoon



Series: Exchange Fics [87]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, M/M, Mistletoe, Mistletoe Exchange 2020, Office Party, Plans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon
Summary: Rufus is uncharacteristically... irascible of late, but Tseng pays it no mind. Reno, however, is having none of it any and already has a plan on how to improve the VP's mood.
Relationships: Reno/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII), Sephiroth/Rufus Shinra
Series: Exchange Fics [87]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/51139
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8
Collections: Mistletoe Exchange 2020





	A Well-Laid Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Neurotoxia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/gifts).



When Tseng returns from his ablutions, Reno is still lying on his back, all but unmoving, a disheveled blanket barely covering his nakedness. He seems to be staring a hole into the ceiling. Tseng knows that look; it's never a good sign.

Wordlessly, he slips back into bed and props himself up on his side to look at Reno in the near dark. Reno may be many things, but he is never still. Or quiet. Sure, he can be stealthy if the situation calls for it, but he is better suited at reconnaissance, at chatting up the locals for information. He must be mulling over something. Tseng can practically hear the gears shift in his head.

"The boss needs to get laid," Reno blurts out at last, as though coming to a conclusion.

"Is that what you've been thinking about?" Tseng asks, voice flat.

"It's simple," Reno says, as if it were truly the most obvious thing in the world. "The boss is always up in my business these days. He needs to chill. Get knocked down a peg or three. Getting laid would help with that."

"Have you ever considered you might be inviting his temper?"

"Are you saying he doesn't need to get laid?"

"I'm saying it's none of my business."

Reno sighs and continues his contemplation of the ceiling.

"It's different this time and you know it," he grumbles. "How often has he been snapping at _you_ lately? And you're a model Turk. He has no reason to chew you out."

It's true that Rufus has been uncharacteristically... irascible of late, but Tseng has paid it no mind. Dealing with his father and the other board members has always had a souring effect on him.

"See, it's not like a man of his stature lacks the opportunities of getting laid," Reno seems to be gathering steam. "Everyone practically throws themselves at him, if only for the political advantage they see in it. Not to mention that he could just waltz into any whorehouse in Midgar and snatch the prettiest hookers off any other client's knee, without so much as a peep from any of them and at no extra charge."

That much is evident, but Tseng doesn't quite see what Reno is getting at. "So?"

"So it must be more personal than that."

 _Ah._ "So you're saying his frustrations have a single point of focus."

Reno unsticks his gaze from the ceiling and shifts it to Tseng, frowning. "You're talking gibberish."

Tseng sighs. "If I understand you correctly, you mean to say that the vice-president has a – shall we say – an object of affection that is unavailable to him."

"I think 'affection' is pushing it but yeah, that's pretty much what I'm sayin'. I'm not so sure about 'unavailable to him', either. Seems to me, they just need a push in the right direction."

"And you're thinking of providing that much-needed push."

"Who else is gonna?"

"I suppose you already have a plan in mind." Tseng finds this whole line of reasoning pretty strange, to say the least. Reno acts as if he had a personal stake in the vice-president's love life. Simply wanting him to back off might warrant a few complaints, but not exactly a plan in the making.

Reno's grin is sly as he reaches out to wrap a strand of Tseng's hair around his finger. "We could throw an office party. Invite everyone to celebrate Shiva's season."

"And how is that going to achieve anything?"

Reno cocks his head. "It's not like you're fresh off the airships from Wutai. Surely you must know of the traditions by now."

"You will have to enlighten me as to which traditions. As you might imagine, I'm aware of several, depending on the region and the time of year."

"Why, the mistletoe tradition, of course." Reno's grin widens.

"So you want to force the vice-president into a situation in which he has to kiss the object of his desire."

" _Ding ding ding._ Jackpot."

Tseng is not sure this is entirely ethical but arguing the point would get him nowhere. "And who, might I ask, _is_ the vice-president's object of desire?"

"You mean you don't know?" Reno asks incredulously.

"Should I?"

Reno eyes him, probably uncertain of whether Tsesng is pulling his leg or not. He takes a deep breath. "Sure you don't have a clue?"

"I'm sure."

Reno sighs, as though he really didn't want to say it out loud. "I suspect it's General Sephiroth."

"General Sephiroth," Tseng deadpans.

"General Sephiroth," Reno confirms.

Tseng inhales slowly, then exhales. Control. He's in control. "And how are you going to guarantee that this isn't all going to end in murder?"

"I'm not."

"But you _do_ realise this might well end in murder? If not ours, then surely the vice-president's, whom we are sworn to protect?"

"Relax," Reno waves him off, "it's going to be fine."

"Reno," Tseng says. He sits up, hair sliding from Reno's fingers. "As your commanding officer, I demand that you take this seriously."

Reno bolts upright, too. "I _am_ taking this seriously. If I didn't, I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place."

"So what are you suggesting?"

"Well..."

They spend the rest of the night discussing strategy, the way they would before going on a mission. In a way, this is no different, especially not to Reno. Their objective is – and Tseng isn't actually thinking about this because it bears no thinking about – to get the vice-president into General Sephiroth's bed for his own good, whether he would approve of the plan or not. It wouldn't be the first time the Turks acted out of their own accord, but it's certainly the strangest.

***

The organisation curiously went without a hitch. Usually, there are so many hoops to jump through to get any sort of expense granted that Tseng had expected their excuse for a winter holiday office party to be stamped out before they had even managed to fill out the necessary paperwork. Perhaps Shiva herself was looking out for them, approving of a party held in her honour.

Whatever the case, invitations were sent out in short order and by the time of the event, more people had R&R'd than had even been invited in the first place. Not that it mattered. Catering could be adjusted. If the soldiers really wanted to mingle with administration, let them. It's not Tseng's concern. Even though he would have to straighten out any misunderstandings that would be the result of tonight. The things he does to keep Reno happy and focused on the job...

The vice-president is late, as might be expected, but at least General Sephiroth is already mingling with the crowd. And by mingling, Tseng means he's standing menacingly off to the side, occasionally exchanging a few words with other SOLDIERs who approach him. There's nothing sociable about the guy. Not for the first time, Tseng wonders how Reno came up with the idea that the vice-president might fancy the general. Sure, he's feared and powerful and would be an asset, but on a personal level he just doesn't see it. The vice-president seems to have favoured more conventional choices: actors and actresses who are famed for their beauty, debutantes from influential families, or simply anyone his father, the president, would not approve of. Perhaps that is what he sees in the general. A chance to turn his father's own weapons against him. Tseng might actually be beginning to see why this must be so entertaining to Reno. But he cannot think about that now. Nor can he think about the rate of failure of this plan. He has to trust that Reno has done his job, and then he has to make sure the rest is carried out to the letter. There is nothing else to it now.

To look more like another guest and less like a security detail, Tseng is carrying around a mug of punch, every so often making as though to take a sip. Rude has taken up a station by the main doors and it wouldn't surprise Tseng to know that Reno has enlightened him as to what his plan entails, and that neither the vice-president nor General Sephiroth were to leave until they had found their way under a mistletoe together. Tseng has not the slightest idea of how Reno intends to manage that short of bodily shoving them underneath one. But to be fair, Reno is a master of improvisation. It wouldn't be the first time he surprised Tseng. If all goes well, that is. Though if it doesn't, Tseng has to be ready to step in to put out the fires. Preferably _before_ they burn the entire organisation down. Figuratively speaking. Hopefully.

The main reception area is decked out in a frosty blue and white, with the occasional pop of forest green or carmine red. The sprigs of mistletoe in question are hanging in each corner of the banquet hall and from the ceiling of each of the adjacent rooms that people can retire to if they wish to converse in a more private setting. Frankly, it is a bit surprising to think that Reno might have actually thought this one through, hard as though that might be to believe. More mistletoes meant more chances of people finding their way beneath it, and hanging them up in the smaller rooms, away from the prying eyes of the other guests also meant that the vice-president and General Sephiroth would be more likely to play along with the custom. Or, one can only hope they would.

"What are you planning?" the vice-president asks, suddenly standing next to him. 

"Excuse me?" Tseng curses himself for his inattention. He should have noticed the man approaching. Even if he might fade in the background with his pale hair, his pale skin, and his penchant for wearing white suits.

"I was surprised to learn the suggestion for this fête came from your department. You must have a reason and it better be good."

"I assure you, we only have your best interest at heart."

"Spoken like a true sycophant."

"In the same vein," Tseng continues as though the vice-president hadn't spoken, "might I direct your attention to the sprigs of mistletoes that are used as decoration in the corners." He nods toward them and the vice-president follows his line of sight. "There are more of them in the sitting rooms that you can access from here. Just so you are not caught unawares."

The vice-president appears as though he was listening with only half an ear, his face hidden behind his mug, contemplating his mulled wine. "I thank you for the information."

Did he just—? The vice-president turns to go and Tseng could swear he'd seen him throw a glance across the floor. Toward where the general is being talked at by a SOLDIER 2nd Class with dark hair and an overly friendly attitude. Tseng has worked with Zack Fair on occasion. If anyone is not intimidated by the general, it would be him.

***

With every minute that passes and nothing happens, Tseng is growing more tense. Most of his work consists of damage limitation and mitigation in its various forms. He would like to say that stopping the vice-president from making potentially harmful decisions falls beneath his purview, but Tseng has yet to meet anyone who dares to tell the vice-president what to do and who gets away with it, too. Even his father makes no more than suggestions, really.

So it falls to Tseng to do nothing more than stand by, watch matters unfold and, if possible, extract the vice-president before any catastrophic fallout occurs. He has known this to be in his job description from day one. He has been prepared for most eventualities. There are protocols on how to deal with SOLDIERs intending to harm the company or its representatives. Yet so far those protocols have not been tested, and he cannot be sure they would hold against General Sephiroth in the event that the vice-president's advances insult rather than flatter him.

Tseng is not a man of idle hopes – you do not rise to his position by leaving things to chance and hoping for the best. Yet he fears that right now, hope is his only option. That, and staying focused on his task of guarding the vice-president without seeming to do so. The reassuring weight of his firearm and the Stop materia he's carrying provide what little comfort they can. 

Tseng nearly jumps as Reno tugs on his sleeve. _Get a hold of yourself,_ he tells himself. _Now is not the time to show how on edge you are._

Reno nods towards the door of one of the adjacent rooms. The vice-president is discreetly looking over his shoulder before he slips inside.

"The general is already inside," Reno informs him. "C'mon, let's go."

"Where to?"

"Why, we follow them, of course."

"Are you mad?" Tseng asks, even though this is exactly what they should be doing. He doesn't know where his head is at right now. One moment he'd been prepared to do whatever is necessary to ensure the vice-president's survival, the next he's a Chocobo because there's a chance he might have to face General Sephiroth.

Reno looks at him funny. "Weren't you the one who mentioned this might end in the vice-president's murder if I'm wrong? Well, I'm suggesting we follow to make sure that doesn't happen."

Tseng keeps his face unruffled and nods. Naturally, they can't leave the vice-president to waltz into the lion's den on his own, no matter that the man would expect them to do just that. Tseng shudders to imagine it. There's no telling how the general will react to a bit of harmless flirtation. If that is indeed what the vice-president intended. They would have to stay close enough to intervene, if need be.

Together, they move like shadows through the crowds, unheeded by the chattering attendants. To them, they might as well be furniture. Which is just the way they want to be perceived. As part of the background. Reno lounges on one side of the door, seeming bored and not at all like he's scanning the guests who pass by too closely.

The door is ajar, but Tseng's pulse is drumming in his ears, making it difficult to eavesdrop. Reno goes one step further and peeks through the opening.

"What are you doing?" Tseng hisses.

"Keeping an eye on them, what else?"

"You're not exactly inconspicuous."

"Who's gonna stop me?" Reno glances over his shoulder at the room filled with Shinra staff. "Them?"

Tseng fights down the urge to roll his eyes. He straightens his cuffs instead. And shrugs his shoulders just to feel his holster. Then he risks a peek as well.

He's not sure whether the scene inside should have surprised him or not. The vice-president and the general are in actual fact standing beneath the mistletoe, although their stances suggest more of a face-off rather than anything more innocent or romantic.

"I'm not going to stoop to such farcical public demonstrations," the vice-president says, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"They're actually standing beneath it," Reno whispers excitedly. Tseng itches to pull him back by his rat tail, but Reno is unfortunately not the only one spying at the door like a pervert.

"Public?" Sephiroth says, amusement tinging his voice. "There's no one here. Unless you're afraid of someone walking in."

Both Reno and Tseng straighten so fast they might have broken speed records. 

"Afraid?" the vice-president scoffs. "Sounds like you're challenging me, general. Why, I had no idea you wanted to kiss me so badly."

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me," Sephiroth says, so low that Tseng can barely make it out.

Beside him, Reno almost chokes. He closes the door as quickly and quietly as he can, just as the scrape of moving furniture comes from within. "Let's leave them to it."

"I can't believe that worked," Tseng says, pressing his back flat against the wall to steady himself.

"Like a charm." Reno draws himself up self-importantly. "Or did you doubt that it would?"

Tseng eyes Reno coolly until he deflates. There's no need for him to take that attitude with Tseng and Reno knows it. Of course Tseng doubted. The idea had been harebrained from the start, but there had been no dissuading Reno from it. Tseng let him go through with it because he thought that at the most, the invited Shinra employees would have a nice party to celebrate the season. He had not wanted to consider the worst, although he had prepared for it anyway. EMTs and a surgeon are standing by. 

"So," Reno says. "I win."

"The evening is not over yet."

"But you're not checking in on them. That means you wanna leave them alone for now. Which in turn means you believe they don't _want_ to be disturbed right now and there's no danger."

"Well..." Reno's got him there. "Yes."

"So. I win."

"Fine," Tseng says and crosses one arm in front of his chest, careful not to spill his drink. "What do you want."

"Oh, nothing much," Reno says as he rummages in his pocket. And takes out a small sprig of mistletoe of all things, the red berries a shade or two darker than his hair. Grinning, he holds it over Tseng's head. "Just a little PDA."

Tseng huffs and turns his head in the nick of time so Reno wouldn't kiss him on the lips where everyone could see. They do not keep their relationship a secret as such, but they're at work right now and there are some things that Tseng won't tolerate. Even though a part of him appreciates Reno's initiative. It's... oddly endearing.

Through the crowd Tseng catches sight of Rude on the other side of the room. He is holding up his PHS with one hand, his mouth hidden behind the other. Now, he might be on an important video call and coughing discreetly into his glove, or fingering his beard in thought, but Tseng is almost certain he just snapped a picture of the two of them. Likely instigated by Reno himself. Well, if Reno managed to pull off this little stunt without Tseng seeing it coming he is welcome to the photo. Tseng _did_ think his initiative is endearing, after all.

Still, he would have to have a talk with both of them. As the director of the Turks he cannot let them go around planning clandestine operations without his knowledge or approval. He would need to ferret out the evidence first, to make sure his accusations aren't baseless, of course. Besides, if Rude did indeed snap a photo of him and Reno, he would like a copy of it. He can't let Reno reap all the benefits himself.

But that can come later. For now, they have a room to guard and a vice-president to rescue, should that be required. Though with every passing minute that neither of the occupants walks out, the less likely it is that the vice-president would appreciate any intervention. And unlike Reno, he's not exactly keen on walking in on something he shouldn't be privy to in the first place.

"That oughta do it," Reno stretches himself long against the wall, looking as self-satisfied as ever.

"Do what?"

"Keep the VP off my back for a bit."

"As long as you don't invite his ire again."

"I don't know what you mean," Reno says innocently. "I'm a perfect employee."

Tseng snorts but lets it stand. It _would_ be good if the vice-president were to assume a laxer attitude in the coming days. Tseng will allow Reno to take the credit for that.

But only if it doesn't get to his head.

"See that you keep up the good work," he says.

Reno is startled to find Tseng agreeing with him, then winks and knuckles his forehead in what passes for a salute. "Sure thing, boss."


End file.
